


Like Father Like Son

by enigmaticblue



Series: Sun 'Verse [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Ben wound up following in his father’s footsteps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Father Like Son

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the hc_bingo prompt “poltergeist.”

The late summer sun beat down on the back of Ben’s neck, and he grinned. It had been months since his run-in with the wendigo, and he was now completely healed.

 

He and Mary had taken the kids down to the creek to swim to give his dad and Cas some time together, and Ben was heading back up to the house to see if they could get permission to have a picnic and a bonfire. He didn’t think it would be a problem, and maybe his dad would feel up to coming.

 

The summer heat had done his dad a lot of good, and his lungs were clear for the first time since he’d first gotten sick.

 

Ben grinned when he saw Maryanne’s battered truck parked in front of their house. She rarely came empty-handed, which meant they usually got cookies at the very least, but peach pie was just as likely this time of year. That would be a good addition to their picnic.

 

There was a hush when he entered the house, though, and Ben felt his stomach drop as he entered the living room to see Maryanne seated on the couch, with his dad in one chair, and Cas standing next to him. Sam was wedged into one corner, looking pensive.

 

“What happened?” Ben asked immediately. “Is everybody okay? Are the kids okay?”

 

His dad glanced at him. “There’s a poltergeist the next county over, and they’ve asked for our help. They’re offering half a head of beef.”

 

Ben did a quick mental calculation. Half a cow would feed the family for a long time, and would give them a much-needed cushion if there were a lean winter. He took in the ice pack draped across his dad’s knee, and Sam’s presence, and squared his shoulders. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“That’s up to you, son,” his dad said. “Sam’s already said he’d go, and we’ll share the meat with him and Julia. Cas or I can back him up.” He paused. “But Ben—and feel free to say no—I trust you to watch Sam’s back, too.”

 

Ben blinked, realizing that his dad had just handed him everything he’d ever wanted. He’d wanted to go on a hunt, he’d wanted to prove himself, and he’d fought against his dad’s protective instincts.

 

But the thing was, Ben had experienced for himself the toll that hunting could exact now, and he wanted a life with Mary. He wanted to be with his family.

 

“I’m happy to go, Ben,” Cas said quietly.

 

Ben swallowed and shook his head. The meat would see them through the winter, and Sam shouldn’t go by himself. His dad’s leg wasn’t up for it, and he’d seen how Cas hovered lately. None of them were quite over how close his dad had come to dying.

 

He’d been sick, really sick, and even though he’d recovered, Ben wasn’t about to lose him.

 

“I’ll go,” Ben said quietly. “They need us, right? And we need the meat. It’s all right. Uncle Sam and I will look out for each other.”

 

“This is a good thing you’re doing,” Maryanne said, having stayed quiet until now. “There haven’t been any deaths, but there have been a few serious injuries. They need your expertise.”

 

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” Sam said. “Ben?”

 

“I’ll be ready,” Ben agreed. “But someone needs to get the kids. I was coming up here to ask if we could have a bonfire.”

 

His dad smiled. “That’s still doable. No sense in worrying anybody tonight. Sam?”

 

Sam seemed to rouse himself. “I can stay tonight. Maryanne, would you tell Julia?”

 

“I’ll go into town and get her,” Maryanne said cheerfully. “I’m sure she and Aubrey would love a good bonfire.”

 

Sam nodded. “That would be great, Maryanne. Thanks.”

 

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Maryanne said.

 

“I’ll go get the supplies,” Cas said.

 

Sam stood. “I can help.” He clasped Ben’s shoulder briefly on his way out of the room. Cas did the same, and Maryanne put her hands on Ben’s shoulders.

 

“You’re just the spitting image of your dad,” she said. “Thank you, Ben.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Ben insisted.

 

When they were alone, Ben took a seat on the couch, feeling ill at ease. “This isn’t a big deal, is it?”

 

His dad shook his head. “Poltergeists can be violent and dangerous, but Sam and I have dealt with them in the past. You’re perfectly capable of handling this, especially since Sam will be there with you.”

 

“Then why is everybody acting like it’s a big deal?” Ben objected.

 

His dad sighed. “Because Cas won’t let me go, and he doesn’t want to leave, which means Sam is the only hunter left—other than you.”

 

Ben rubbed his hands together. “Did you feel this way when you were starting out?”

 

His dad grimaced. “I didn’t have a choice, son. You do. You don’t have to do this.”

 

Ben looked up. “Someone has to, right? And if it can’t be you or Cas, then it has to be me. Plus, we could use the meat.”

 

His dad shook his head. “We’ll have enough food this winter. We could let them figure it out for themselves, send some pointers.”

 

Ben squared his shoulders. “Sam and I can do that when we go, and then they’ll know how to take care of it the next time, right?”

 

His dad stared at him, and then he said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Ben. Your mom would be, too.”

 

Ben blinked, trying to get his emotions under control. “I—thanks.”

 

His dad never talked about Ben’s mom, and Ben might feel worse about that, except that no one talked about Mary’s parents, or Henry’s, or Casey’s, or Ryan and Cora’s. They were all orphans here, other than Ben, because Ben still had his dad.

 

And Ben would do anything to keep him, even if it meant risking his own life, and risking his future with Mary and his family.

 

~~~~~

 

The bonfire was bright and hot, the flames leaping and the wood crackling. Dean was reminded of the first time they’d come out to the creek to swim after Sam had arrived. There had been so much left unspoken between them, so much tension, and all that was gone now.

 

Sam had settled down, and Dean liked Julia and Aubrey a lot. He had thought maybe they’d left hunting behind, but trouble kept finding them.

 

If anything happened to Ben—

 

Dean wouldn’t let himself think about that.

 

As though sensing Dean’s dark thoughts, Cas put an arm over Dean’s shoulders as they watched the fire and listened to the kids scream with happiness as they played tag, both in and out of the water.

 

Even Maryanne had stripped down to a pair of bicycle shorts and a t-shirt, which had thrilled the kids. She played right along, and Dean was so grateful for her, even though she’d been the one to ask them to risk their lives.

 

Dean had thought he’d accepted the fact that their birthright, their knowledge, ensured that he and Sam would always be needed when there was something supernatural gone wrong. He hadn’t thought the hunting life would claim his son, though; Ben was supposed to be safe.

 

And maybe Ben had gone after the wendigo, but he’d seemed to sour on the idea of hunting since then, and Dean had been grateful for it. He thought his son might be able to escape the Winchester curse.

 

“He’ll be fine,” Cas murmured. “Sam will be with him from the beginning, and it’s a poltergeist.”

 

“He’s doing it for me,” Dean muttered in reply. “I know my kid, and I don’t want him to feel like he has to do this.”

 

Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s temple. “He’s _your son_. He’s very like you, Dean. Of course he’s going to go, and we both know that you can’t.”

 

“Fuck that,” Dean said, but his protest was weak, and he knew it.

 

“Dean,” Cas said quietly.

 

Dean just pressed his forehead against Cas’ shoulder. “It’s my son. Who’s next, Henry?”

 

“I think we have a few years before that’s an issue,” Cas said, sounding amused. “I’d be more concerned about Casey.”

 

Dean groaned. “Oh, hell. Don’t tempt fate, Cas.”

 

Cas chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

“It’s just a poltergeist,” Dean said desperately. “Right?”

 

“How many have you dealt with?” Cas asked.

 

Dean shrugged. “I lost track.”

 

“There you go,” Cas said. “Sam will be with him. Don’t worry so much.”

 

“He’s my son,” Dean replied simply. “I’m always going to worry about him, just like I’ll always worry about Sam, and you, and the other kids.”

 

Cas hummed in the way that told Dean he was humoring him. “You will always worry, as I will always worry, and we will always be here when our kids come home, but they have to leave the nest sometime. And this was Ben’s choice.”

 

“Kids,” Dean managed to say past the lump in his throat. “They do grow up.”

 

“I think that’s kind of the point,” Cas replied. “And if you want little ones around, there are plenty of them out there.”

 

Dean chuckled. “I think we’ve got all we can handle right now, but I wouldn’t say no to more if they showed up.”

 

Ben plopped down on Dean’s other side with a towel over his shoulders, his damp hair glistening in the light of the bonfire. “I know Uncle Sam knows all this stuff, but I thought I’d ask about poltergeists.”

 

Dean put a hand on Ben’s shoulder, feeling the heat of his skin through the damp towel. “Ghosts aren’t too complicated, and poltergeists are another type of ghost,” Dean began. “They used to say you couldn’t salt and burn the remains to get rid of them, but we proved them wrong. Did I ever tell you that story?”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Ben said.

 

“I don’t think I’ve heard it either,” Cas said mildly.

 

Ben called out, “Hey, everybody! Dad’s telling a ghost story!”

 

There were cheers from the rest of the kids, and Henry and Casey were the first to appear, skidding to a stop in front of Dean, sprawling down almost on top of each other in a tangle of limbs, with Ryan landing on top of them a second later to shrieks of laughter.

 

And while Dean didn’t like sending his son out on a hunt, he wasn’t sorry to be staying home.

 

~~~~~

 

The bonfire was still burning when Ben called it a night, heading back up for the house with Mary following close behind, her fingers entwined with his. Since Sam was staying in the loft that night, they went to Mary’s room, sitting next to each other on Mary’s bed.

 

Mary rested her head against Ben’s shoulder, her hands moving close to her body, the equivalent of a whisper. “I don’t want you to go.”

 

“It’s for us,” Ben whispers. “It means we’ll have meat this winter, maybe even enough to trade or give away.

 

“I know,” Mary signed. “Be careful.”

 

“Uncle Sam will watch out for me, and I’ll look out for him,” Ben assured her. “I won’t leave you.”

 

She kissed him with an edge of desperation, and Ben knew what she was saying even if she couldn’t say it out loud.

 

They had grown up together, and Mary might not speak, but she made herself heard in spite of that. Ben _knew_ her, and he’d hurt her when he’d left to go after the wendigo.

 

He hated hurting Mary, or his dad, or anybody else in the family, and he had no desire to die.

 

Mary was the one to break it off, signing, “You should sleep. You have to leave early tomorrow.”

 

“I’ll hurry back,” Ben promised, and kissed her once more.

 

In spite of his nerves, Ben slept well that night, comforted by the sound of Sam’s snores on the other side of the room.

 

Sam was still snoring when Ben woke up, and he stumbled out of the barn and headed up to the house for a quick wash and breakfast. Mary was already up in spite of the early hour, and Ben pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

 

She waved him to a seat, stirring the scrambled eggs on the stove while Cas flipped the bacon and poured him a cup of coffee without a word.

 

Ben accepted it, recognizing the gesture for what it was. None of the kids drank coffee—there wasn’t enough of it for that—and Cas offering him a cup was a tangible example of his adulthood.

 

Oddly enough, he suddenly felt very young, but he sipped his coffee anyway. It was too bitter, but he didn’t say anything.

 

Maybe it was something you had to get used to.

 

Mary put a plate in front of him and held his hand under the table.

 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Ben asks her.

 

She shakes her head, not bothering to sign.

 

“We can eat later,” Cas said. “Was Sam up yet?”

 

Ben shook his head. “Still snoring.”

 

“Not anymore,” Sam said sleepily as he entered the kitchen. “’Morning, everybody.”

 

Mary waved with her free hand, and Ben said, “’Morning, Uncle Sam.”

 

Cas handed him a plate and a cup of coffee. “Dean should be down shortly. He wanted to see you guys off.”

 

Sam tucked into his food, sipping his coffee between bites while Ben finished off his own breakfast. When he’d cleaned his plate, Mary signed, “More?”

 

Ben shook his head. “No, I’m good.”

 

His dad limped into the room a few minutes later, grunting a greeting. He was never at his best in the morning, and Ben just appreciated the fact that he’d made the effort to see them off at all.

 

They finished their breakfast in silence after that, the rest of the house quiet. Ben had kind of missed this being up at the barn, although he valued his privacy, especially on nights when Sam was gone, and he and Mary could be alone together.

 

And Ben wanted nothing more at that moment to stay—to sit in the kitchen drinking his rapidly cooling coffee, waiting for the other kids to wake up and tumble into the kitchen, squabbling over toast and apple slices and peanut butter.

 

They didn’t have time to wait, though; they had to get on the road.

 

“Ready?” Sam asked.

 

Ben nodded, trying to sound more sure than he feels. “Ready.”

 

Mary kissed him and pressed her forehead to his chest, and Ben held her close. “I’ll be okay,” he promised.

 

His dad pulled him in for a hug, too, and then clapped Sam on the shoulder, although he didn’t say anything.

 

Ben knew that spoke to the trust his dad had for Sam.

 

Cas gave him a hug, too. “I’ll be praying for your safety.”

 

From anybody else, that would have sounded pious, and maybe a little insincere, but from Cas, it meant something. “Thanks.”

 

Cas touched his cheek. “I know you’ll cover Sam’s blind spot.”

 

Ben nodded. “Definitely.”

 

“Go on, get out of here,” his dad said hoarsely. “Sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back.”

 

Ben wanted to say something like, “I’ll be back before you know it,” but he didn’t want to jinx them.

 

They took the Willys, because it was up to the roads. “Do you want to drive?” Sam asked.

 

“You’d let me?” Ben asked.

 

Sam dangled the keys. “We can switch off. You drive out, and I can drive back.”

 

Ben snatched the keys out of his hand. “Since you’re offering.”

 

They rolled into Cold Springs midafternoon, and went straight to see Maryanne’s contact. Ben let Sam do most of the talking, since he looked the part of a seasoned hunter.

 

Brock Overstreet was a middle-aged man with thinning hair covered up by a battered Cubs hat and a grizzled beard. He shook Sam’s hand warmly when Sam introduced them.

 

“Good of you boys to come,” he said briefly. “I have to say, I was never much one to believe in ghost stories, but that house is definitely haunted.”

 

“We’ve dealt with poltergeists before,” Sam replied. “We’ll need all the records you’ve got, for as far back as you’ve got.”

 

Overstreet nodded. “Figured. Maryanne indicated as much. I’ve pulled all the records I could find. I’d just close up the house, but it’s in good shape, and we finally got a doctor coming to town. Told her I’d get it cleaned up for her and her kids, and noticed some weird stuff going on, although I didn’t think much of it until the doctor moved in.”

 

Sam winced. “Let me guess, things got worse once they moved in.”

 

“The teenager—he’d be about fourteen—got his arm broken when it tossed him across the room,” Overstreet admitted. “I’m hoping the doc will agree to come back once we clear out the house.”

 

“Poltergeists can be dangerous, and they tend to show up when there’s a kid around, especially if the kid is angry,” Sam replies.

 

Overstreet chuckled. “Well, I don’t think he was none too happy about moving here.”

 

Sam rubbed his hands on his jeans. “It could be that the haunting just made it worse. We’ll get started on those records, figure out what’s causing it, and then see if we can get rid of the problem for you..”

 

“I got  the records at my house,” he said. “My wife’s making dinner tonight, and we’ll put you up while you’re in town.”

 

Research was the part of hunting that Ben hadn’t thought much about, and he had never been one for studying, not like Mary or Henry. Going through old newspapers and deeds of sale wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time, and it certainly wasn’t exciting.

 

“I never really thought that this was what hunting was all about,” Ben confessed.

 

Sam gave him a quick grin. “Research is always a big part of hunting. With a ghost, you’ve got to figure out who’s doing the haunting, and where the remains are. But we’ll go over there tonight. Once we see it, we might get a better idea of what we’re looking at.”

 

Ben nodded, trying not to look too eager.

 

Mrs. Overstreet made hamburgers, which were as good as Ben had eaten in a long while, and asked them questions about Cedar Grove. “Are you sure you boys don’t want to rest?” she asked after dinner.

 

“We won’t be long,” Sam promised. “We just want to get the lay of the land.”

 

“I’ll go over there with you,” Overstreet said. “Though you’ll excuse me if I don’t come in.”

 

Sam shook his head. “It’s no problem at all. We can handle it.”

 

The sun was making its descent, but there was still plenty of light to see by, something Ben was grateful for. They both carried shotguns filled with rock salt, as well as a few other supplies, like containers of salt and iron pipes.

 

The house was quiet and a little dusty when they entered, the linoleum floor squeaking under the soles of their boots. The paint could use some freshening, and the house needed to be cleaned, but Ben understood why Overstreet didn’t want to call the house a loss. There weren’t a lot of construction companies operating in western South Dakota, and the lack of new buildings meant existing structures were at a premium.

 

“Maybe it won’t show,” Ben said as they moved from room to room.

 

Sam shrugged. “It might not, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

 

Ben heard a door slam upstairs. “What was that?”

 

“That was either the wind or our poltergeist.”

 

Sam sounded perfectly calm, and Ben took a deep breath, knowing that Sam knew what he was doing.

 

Ben followed him up the stairs, seeing the places on the wall where pictures had hung, judging by the squares of wallpaper that hadn’t faded. There was a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling at the top of the stairs, and it was swinging slightly.

 

“Should we turn the lights on?” Ben asked.

 

“Not yet,” Sam replied.

 

There was a short hallway at the top of the stairs, and three doors that were all closed. Sam tried the first door on the right, and the knob moved easily under his hand. The room was empty except for a metal bedframe in one corner.

 

Overhead, the light bulb shattered, and Ben ducked his head instinctively, feeling the sting of glass on the back of his neck. He held his shotgun tighter.

 

“Easy,” Sam murmured. “Try the other door.”

 

Ben nodded and opened the door on the other side of the hall. It swung open slowly, and as soon as Ben stepped forward, it swung closed so fast that he narrowly avoided getting hit in the face.

 

“That’s where we need to go,” Sam said grimly. “We’re going through that door.”

 

Ben squared his shoulders and opened the door again, pushing inside immediately, feeling Sam close behind him.

 

The temperature of the room dropped immediately, and Ben shivered.

 

“This is perfectly normal,” Sam murmured. “Keep a sharp eye out.”

 

Ben whirled when he saw something flicker in the corner of the room, and he saw his first poltergeist. The figure was indistinct  and misty and about his size, and it rushed at Ben, who fired off a round of rock salt, causing it to disappear.

 

“I think we’ve got our answer,” Sam said. “I only saw one death in the records that would match.”

 

Ben felt something slam into him from behind, and he sprawled on the floor, his shotgun thrown from his grasp.

 

“All right!” Sam called, helping Ben up. “We’re listening. You’ve got our attention.”

 

There was a crash from the other bedroom, probably the bed frame being thrown around.

 

Sam pulled Ben out of the room quickly, leading him towards the stairs, firing his shotgun when the spirit appeared again. “Go, quickly,” Sam ordered.

 

They managed to get out of the house without any further mishaps, and Sam asked immediately, “Are you all right?”

 

Ben nodded. “Now what?”

 

“Now we find the remains, and we salt and burn them,” Sam said, clapping Ben on the shoulder. “Good job, Ben.”

 

Ben grimaced. “I didn’t do much.”

 

“You kept your head, and when you got knocked down, you got back up again,” Sam replied. “We did all right.”

 

Ben took a deep breath. “Are all hunts like this?”

 

Sam shook his head. “Most of them are harder, to be honest.”

 

Ben didn’t say that he thought this one was hard enough. If there was one thing he’d learned from the wendigo, and now this hunt, it was that he’d far rather be at home.

 

~~~~~

 

“I just don’t see why we have to have lessons today,” Casey protested. “Ben’s not here.”

 

“And Mary will make sure he catches up later,” Cas said firmly. “Now, finish your breakfast. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”

 

Cora pouted. “But I don’t want to walk!”

 

Dean hid a sigh. It seemed to be a rule around their house that once one kid started whining, the rest quickly followed suit. He caught Cas’ eye and grimaced. Cas shrugged in response.

 

“Next one to start complaining will be cleaning the bathrooms,” Dean announced. “And will have a week’s worth of dish duty.”

 

 _That_ shut everyone up, although he could hear faintly mutinous mumbles from Ryan, who hadn’t gotten a chance to protest. Henry had his nose buried in a book while absently munching his toast, and Mary was rinsing dishes at the sink.

 

Dean took his mug over to her. “You okay, sweetheart?”

 

She managed a nod, then signed, “Three days.”

 

“Nearly one day to get there, and then they’ll have to do some research and locate the remains,” Dean said quietly. “Plus, Maryanne’s in contact with the mayor, and they both have landlines. We’d know if something had gone wrong.”

 

She nodded and managed a smile, and Dean was glad that Cas had managed to keep her busy canning the last couple of days. Today, she’d have a full day of lessons with Julia, and with luck, Ben and Sam would be back that night or the next day.

 

Not for the first time, Dean wished cell phones were still operational in this area of the country. He’d like nothing more than to fire off a quick call to Sam and his son to check on them, but instead they’d have to rely on Maryanne’s contact to let them know if anything went wrong on that end.

 

Cas pulled him to the living room. “Are you going to Ernest’s to work on the mower today?”

 

“I thought I might,” Dean replied. “Depending on how long that takes me, I might go out to Howl’s and check on his tractor, too.”

 

“I’m sure they’ll both appreciate it,” Cas replied, and then leaned in for a kiss. “I’m sure they’re fine, Dean. Sam is more than capable of taking care of a poltergeist.”

 

“Should I have let Ben go?” Dean asked, not for the first time. “I wanted to spare him.”

 

Cas shook his head. “People are always going to need our help with this sort of thing. Eventually, they’ll come to Ben, and he’ll have a choice about whether he wants to hunt. It’s better that he learn now, with one of us, and then he can decide for himself in the future.”

 

“This wasn’t the legacy I wanted to leave him,” Dean admitted. “But you’re right.”

 

Cas gave him a mischievous smile. “I usually am.”

 

Dean took a deep breath. “What do you think? Will they make it back today?”

 

“Today or tomorrow,” Cas replied. “I’d expect a call if they’re going to be longer than that.”

 

“Say hi to Julia for me,” Dean said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

 

He saw Cas and the kids off, and then he headed for the barn, pulling the cover off the Impala and setting off for Ernest’s place.

 

The mower took Dean longer to fix than he’d anticipated, and so he headed home late that afternoon, taking his time with the drive, cranking up the Stones to drown out his own thoughts.

 

He rarely had a moment to himself with all the kids running around, and he wished he could enjoy it more, but his worry put a damper on his pleasure.

 

The Impala’s tires crunched over the gravel driveway, and as he approached the house, he let out a sigh of relief when he caught sight of the Willys parked out front. He pulled into the barn and just clutched the steering wheel, swamped with gratitude.

 

When Dean was certain he had his emotions under control, he limped into the house, heading straight for the kitchen. Ben and Sam wolfing down sandwiches at the table, looking none the worse for wear. “Hey, you two,” he said. “How did it go?”

 

Ben shrugged. “Not too bad. We got lucky that there was really only one death at the house that would have produced a ghost. The kid’s brother accidentally shot him to death with their dad’s gun, and the family left town right after they buried him. Must have pissed off his spirit. Between that and the poltergeist, the house was uninhabitable.”

 

“Once we narrowed down who it was, we were able to salt and burn the remains, and we did a blessing on the house to dispel any negative energies from the poltergeist,” Sam said, taking a drink out of a dark bottle. “Ben did really well. Overstreet sent back some beef with us and promised to bring the rest in a couple of weeks after they finish their butchering.”

 

Dean slapped Ben on the back. “Well done.”

 

“There’s beer in the fridge,” Sam offered. “Overstreet brews his own, and he sent some back with us.”

 

“That was nice of him,” Dean said, helping himself. “Ben, you interested?”

 

Ben looked surprised and pleased to be asked. “Maybe another time,” he said. “Where’s Mary? I thought she’d be here.”

 

“She and Cas took the kids into town for their lesson with Julia,” Dean replied, taking a long pull of his beer, impressed by the quality. “You can take the Willys in to pick them up once you’re done eating.”

 

“Awesome,” Ben said around another huge bite of his sandwich.

 

“I’ll catch a ride in with you,” Sam said to Ben. “I’m going to stay with Julia tonight.”

 

“Thought you might,” Dean said. “Thanks for doing this, Sammy.”

 

Sam smiled. “Just like old times, really.” His good eye fixed on Ben. “Ben’s good to have on a hunt.”

 

Ben flushed with pleasure. “Well, I don’t think I’m going to be doing a lot of this,” he replied. “I like being here too much. But if there’s a problem, I’d go again.”

 

Dean didn’t say anything to that, but he felt both pride and relief. He and Sam hadn’t been given much of a choice about hunting, but Ben had options.

 

Even more importantly, Ben had a home and a family to go along with his sense of duty, and his family was Ben’s priority.

 

“I’m proud of you, Ben,” he finally said, and Ben grinned, blushing even brighter.

 

Ben shrugged. “Thanks, Dad.”

 

And Dean gave silent thanks that his family was in one piece.


End file.
